


The Rat King's Crew

by Schnikeys



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Destiny 2, Dubious Consent, Eliksni, F/F, F/M, Fallen (Destiny) - Freeform, Hive (Destiny) - Freeform, Original Character(s), Other, Self Harm by Proxy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Xenosociology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-17 17:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13663926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schnikeys/pseuds/Schnikeys
Summary: In the entire story of Destiny, there's really only one kind of choice Guardians can make: whether to kill someone, or leave them to get killed by something else.Fortunately, sometimes this is just enough of a choice to get the ball rolling! Because there's little quite as Dark as killing something weaker than you.And Guardians are very strong.





	1. Data Requisition

“<There’s a better input port on the ->”

“<I’ve got it.>”

“<Velixas, I’m telling you ->”

“<I’ve _got it_. >” Velixas smacks Baskin’s hand away while his upper hands are scraping Hive barnacles off of the Human terminal’s ports.

Mithrax might have sealed the two doors leading towards the surface of the Rig, but he still keeps two eyes on the slightly cloudy window. They’ve been here for twelve minutes and every passing moment draws his upper shoulders closer together with tension.

This control room is in an area infested by Hive but nominally claimed by the Thieves’ Vanguard - technically, that goes for all the structures on this moon. What that means in a practical sense is that representatives of either group might burst in at any moment to blast their heads off. Given can appear much more unexpectedly, so he decided to seal the two doors they don’t have hooked up to one of their own control terminals, not the gaping holes eaten in the walls since Given are leery both of blasting holes in the Rig and of venturing into Hive territory. Hopefully, the two forces might show up at the same time and fight each other to the death, without Mithrax’s crew getting caught in the middle.

He left a squad in the corridors outside the sealed doors, with a servitor capable of creating barriers. He can’t shake the feeling that he has sent them to their deaths.

(If this goes wrong, can the crew scrape together enough ether to promote a captain from their own? Would they be forced to split among other crews? How many would survive that?)

A snapping sound. “<Ow! It shocked me, stop messing with it!>”

“<Please don’t ignore me,>” Baskin replies, artificially polite. Nulkis, standing several arms’ lengths away looking like she doesn’t know what she should be doing with her spear, glances at him pleadingly.

“<Baskin,>” Mithrax calls smoothly, “<Would you mind clearing our route of egress?>”

Baskin shoots him an aggravated knowing look and slinks out the hacked door. Velixas, admirably, seems to have learned the grace not to comment.

Things seem a little better when the two of them are getting along, he thinks, gaze fixed out the window and alert for any sounds of approach. Those moments are getting more frequent. They’ll get there.

Velixas crows excitedly, and Mithrax turns from the door. “<What?>”

“<A power source! A generator, within the Arcology!>”

“<Where?>” he demands.

“<...Not sure. But if we copy all the files ->”

“<Do it. I trust your judgment.>”

Velixas glances at him briefly, then returns his gaze to the terminal. Mithrax catches the sound of a proud rumble and smiles to himself.

There’s a quiet whooshing sound from the direction of the window as Velixas is starting to disconnect their terminal, and for a moment Mithrax doesn’t process it, distracted by the implications of a surplus of power.

A quiet, strangled “<Sir ->” and he turns to face the window.

A Given, standing right behind the glass. Hooded, significantly taller than the average, holding a rifle, completely motionless, and looking at him.

“<We don't fear fighting,>” Mithrax says, not looking away from the Given, "<but let's try saving our courage for another day.>" 

At an answering subvocal of assent from Velixas and Nulkis, he roars as loud as he can, a moment afterward smelling the telltale shift of the Hive rousing. They run out the secured door, and Mithrax’s last glimpse of the Given is of it watching him leave.

Damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Captain Mithrax first encounters a Hunter in a control center on the Rig.
> 
> * * *
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: ~~This chapter will shortly be retconned because I recently replayed the "Data Requisition" mission in question, and discovered that I had, in fact, misremembered several aspects. (/n\\) Stay tuned!~~ EDITED 2018-6-28 to make sure that the people who are actually there in the mission are there in this chapter :P
> 
> Fun fact: The voice line Mithrax says is actually originally from the Shadow Thief strike, said by Taniks the Scarred! This is...a very different context, so i'm assuming that "She da hur et, sha da go bo ra. [RAWR]" is contextual in meaning lol


	2. Ghost Fragment: Titan 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: offscreen death, body horror, Hive
> 
> This fic will be jumping back and forth between two timeframes unless otherwise noted; one beginning with Lighting the Dark, and one beginning about a(n Earth) year earlier with this chapter.

Mithrax’s first impression of Titan was both accurate and disheartening. Chasing the Lightless Thieves (and wasn’t _that_ darkly ironic) to capitalize on their newfound weakness was, in actuality, a pretty sound idea. When it turned out that they’d run to a Hive-infested ocean planet, with only ancient corroded Human structures between themselves and a long, long fall to be cracked open on a sea of methane, well.

If the Given had lured them there on purpose, he might be impressed, but they seemed profoundly surprised. So.

He should have made more of an effort to get a hold of a former House of Exile crewmember before now. _He_ had no particular experience dealing with Hive, and while they seemed to reserve the majority of their appetites for the Given, it certainly didn’t stop them from _eating_ his _crew_.

He would have been quite happy never seeing an eliksni corpse perforated with unidentifiable worms, but as it is, he crouches down to carefully prod at the sad body with the end of his cannon.

“<When did you say he vanished?>”

The dreg behind him - Yekis? Yes, also from the House of Kings, but not part of his crew until a month or so ago, during the merger - makes a sound as though she’s trying to speak, but coughs a few times. He turns to eye her. She looks unwell, staring at poor Ulnas’s corpse. He shifts to place himself in her line of sight.

“<Speak.>”

“<Yesterday, before all-call,>” she finally croaks.

“<And no one in your squad noted his disappearance, because…>”

She shifts, twitching her partially-regrown arm stubs. “<...He and uh, another marauder were having a disagreement. Sir.>”

He sighs, mandibles buzzing softly. It’s been like this for weeks. Everyone is anxious and unsettled by the union of the Houses (not to mention the incursion of the militants), and many are venting this anxiety by asserting their strength over their compatriots. It makes sense, but it’s only going to worsen their workforce shortage. He can’t have this.

He stands, resettling his mask. “<Yekis, go fetch a body bag for me.>”

“<Sir.>”

“<And thank you for telling me about your...squad dynamic. It is very helpful.>”

“<...Sir.>”

Later, he allows the horrified, revolted silence of about a dozen squads’ worth of eliksni staring at a dead lump of chitin pocked with Hive maggots to stretch into a thoroughly uncomfortable silence as they shift their gazes up to him. Waiting for whatever he’s about to say. They’ve all seen horrible things, yes, but the Vex, Cabal, and Given in particular don’t typically leave identifiable corpses, and other eliksni at least try to be fast. Humane. Ulnas is still recognizable and clearly died slowly.

His body might even be too defiled for the servitors. Most likely, they’ll have to toss it into the ocean.

The writhing of the worms is obscenely loud in the silence, only accompanied by the distant hiss of waves, and creak of metal. (He wouldn’t dare to bring a piece of the Hive into one of their secured strongholds, even to make a point, which is why he informed everyone they were to report for a crew-wide address in a cargo bay too infested to be worth holding against the Hive anyways.)

He is still. No matter if he’s technically no longer House of Kings, it will take much longer than a few months to erase the poise he was made to learn.

A few arms-lengths away from Yekis, who looks wary, he sees a marauder, with more...not guilt, but apprehension, than anyone around him. Mithrax points at him, and he startles.

“<Sir?>” When Mithrax inclines his head expectantly, the marauder bows carefully. “<Marauder Tavek, sir.>”

“<Marauder Tavek. How much do you know about the Hive?>”

He can tell this wasn’t what Tavek was expecting, and it’s making him nervous. “<...Enough, sir.>”

“<Did you know they grow bigger according to the battles they have won?>” Tavek visibly gauges the wisdom of lying, then gestures no. “<Very similar to we eliksni, yes?>”

A susurrus of displeasure. No one would want to be compared to these disgusting abominations. He is counting on that.

Mithrax dispassionately nudges Ulnas’s corpse with a toe and an unexpectedly loud _squelch_ results. He does not react. “ <Tavek. Do you think we can beat them at their game?>”

“<...Sir?>”

“<Do you think we can be better than the Hive at becoming strong by eating the weak?>”

Mithrax doubts anyone has ever phrased this to his crew in such terms.

Tavek squirms. Mithrax maintains his stare. “<...Maybe? Uh, sir.>”

“<Really.>”

Tavek fidgets, and Mithrax breaks his gaze, waves a hand at him in dismissal. He sweeps his eyes over the rest of his crew - a few of them with him since when they were House of Kings, most of them new. The former likely have an inkling of what he’s getting at, knowing his prior tactics, but all of them are listening. Good.

“<From the Human data, we know this moon has never been touched by the Great Machine. It does not want us here. Neither the ocean, nor the Given, nor the Hive want us here, either. If we cull every moment of weakness, no matter if in the long run it might make us stronger, in the short term, we will all die.>”

Dozens of dozens of bright eyes, staring back. His heart aches. Every one of these people depends on him. He has to be strongest, he has to be the most clever, or they will all suffocate on this horrible rock.

“<You will prioritize completion of my orders, and you will consider the preservation of your crewmates integral to that task. I trust,>” and Mithrax allows his tone to become just a touch sardonic, “<this will not be _overly_ challenging. >”

A final glance around the room. Skeptical looks, many from vandals and marauders, but also from dregs and wretches. Some of the splicers look disapproving, but others look thoughtful. The servitors watch impassively. He’ll have to ask them later.

“<Dismissed.>”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Mithrax arrives on Titan, and is not impressed. One of his marauders is found dead, partially due to another crew-member, and he explains to his crew that he considers that undesirable.


	3. Lighting the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Hive, casual/non-graphic onscreen death, incidental profanity, paranoia

On the one hand, he correctly predicted that the Thieves’ Vanguard would not only know where the terminals to cycle the reactor’s systems remotely were, and how to activate said terminals, but would do so, and promptly. The tendency to accurately predict enemy behavior is always good.

On another hand, that also means he was correct about them wanting the reactor. And that there is probably a Given chasing them.

The comms chatter Baskin is monitoring with one ear as they traverse the Arcology pathways means Mithrax was also correct that the eliksni high command on Titan would not only be interested in a reactor but would be particularly enthusiastic about trying to prevent the Given from getting it. And would try to do that with troop deployments.

He is trying not to think about how he is consciously using other crews of eliksni as a means to slow the Hive and Given down. It’s necessary, and the most expedient course of action. He shouldn’t feel this sick about it.

That’s what he gets for indulging his weakness, he supposes. Might as well persevere with it.

Velixas is starting to breathe a little too heavily, so Mithrax reduces his pace as if he just happens to want to go a little slower. They’ve been lucky, _very_ lucky so far.

“<Left,>” wheezes Velixas, and Mithrax holsters his launcher to slash the papery Hive growth out of the doorway, trying not to shudder at the scratching, clinging touch of Hive barnacles. It’s not very dignified to have to scramble through vandal-sized gaps, but he’ll live.

Velixas hooks his computer up to the reactor’s bootup console. Mithrax looks around the dark room, breathes in, tasting the air; the Hive’s been disturbed, probably by -

“<Given engaged by Captain Feldris’s forces in the Solarium,>” Baskin reports shortly.

“<How many?>”

“<One.>” She pauses, listening intently. Before he can get his hopes up, she continues grimly, “<Hunter. Tall. Picked off a few Acolytes from a distance. Snuck by most of the other crews.>”

Likely the same Given as in the control center. He traces the most direct, least infested path from the Solarium to their location in his head, and groans internally. It’ll be here in twelve, twenty-four minutes, at the most.

Baskin puffs out a mirthless laugh, and he glances at her questioningly. “<Sounds like they only spotted it when it…>” A pause. “<When it killed the servitor maintaining a barrier.>” Another pause. “<I think they’re stealing your ideas, sir.>”

“<They are welcome to have that one.>”

A volley of quiet expletives suddenly erupts from the direction of the console.

“<Velixas?>”

“<I can’t ->” Velixas’s voice wobbles, and then he growls. “<I can’t - get past the reactor firewalls. Not in less than a few hours. I’d need a servitor.>”

Spawn of a fuck.

“<Keep looking through the systems.>” he says. “<See what you can find.>”

“<Sir ->” Baskin says, softly.

“<Quiet!>” he barks. He winces - he thought he’d stopped snapping at the crew - then shoves it out of his mind and thinks. An unhelpful mental image of the walls closing in around them is also pushed out of his mind.

They need the reactor. The Given also want the reactor. So do the other eliksni crews, although they can be distracted by the prospect of attacking a Given. The Hive presumably don't want the reactor, seeing as it is in their territory and yet inactive, but they will punish any incursions. They’re directly in the middle of Hive territory right now and have only escaped notice because of the small size of their squad, and everyone else making a racket. They planted a transmat beacon in a safe area before they ventured in, but they might be out of range right now.

If the Hive find them first, their only hope would be to retreat, but they have no clear line of egress. If the Given find them first, same situation, only they wouldn’t likely have time to withdraw. If another crew finds them first, he could _possibly_ talk their way out, but that’s not likely anyway.

He looks around the room again. According to the facility map they pulled from the control center, this is one of several security checkpoints for reactor access. “<Velixas, are you able to open those doors over there?>”

Mithrax sees him scowl in the dim light thrown off by the console. “<No! It’s linked to the same security protocols.>”

“<What triggers the security protocols? What do they do?>”

Tense silence for half a minute. Baskin is carefully scouting the perimeter, delicately picking her way around the sharp Hive barnacles.

“<It’s - grrrm - I think it’s meant to seal Humans off from potential reactor accidents? It’s based on lifeform-recognition - not us, obviously. Just the different kinds of Humans. There ->” He pauses. “<There are inactive solid fields all around the room. Haven’t been activated in cycles. Still working, though.>”

A germ of an idea is blooming in Mithrax’s chest, but he crushes it down. Can’t get hopes up. “<How does it determine what gets sealed off? Where does it activate?>” The report of a wire rifle, far off.

“<Uhhh…>” Velixas’s eyes narrow, squinting at the screen. “<There’s - yes, there would be barriers there,>” he gestures at glowing lines on the floor, “<And also there, around that smaller door. The bigger door is...access to a freight lift? I’m - I think it used to be overseen by a Human stationed in the higher access zone, plus the facility AI, but now ->”

Thrall shrieks, closer this time. Baskin stations herself near the door to the Festering Halls, clutching her rifle. Mithrax gestures for Velixas to keep talking.

“<It initiates a lockdown for, well, unauthorized access, and also sudden energy discharge. I want to emphasize that if I try to open the doors, we’ll lose all access.>”

Mithrax hears the thumping sound of Acolyte Shredder guns. “<Can you alter what happens if someone manages an authentication?>”

“<...Maybe? I think. Why?>”

The sounds of battle are growing louder. He can hear eliksni shouts too, now. “<I will explain. First, arrange it so that we can activate the lockdown field by the smaller door. Then, see if you can have it so that after the reactor boots up, the quarantine system will reset, and the door to the lift will open.>”

“<...Sir.>” While Velixas fiddles with the console, Mithrax stands near the barnacle-encrusted door and gestures Baskin over. She obeys with only a mild expression of skepticism.

They wait in a tense silence before Velixas pipes up again, “<I...think I got it. Maybe. I hope.>”

“<Good enough. Come over here.>” Velixas folds up his computer and scurries over, standing at his left. Mithrax pulls a shock grenade from his pack, activates it, and chucks it at what looks like a sensor.

A peeved-sounding “beep” is the only warning they get before walls of light spring up all around the room, including their alcove, trapping them.

Mithrax sighs. “<And now, we wait.>”

Out of his leftmost eye, he sees Velixas open and close his mandibles soundlessly against his mask several times, before saying, “<Sir, what the fuck.>”

“<That Given is right on our napes. The other crews and the Hive won’t stop it. Given Spiritors have much greater processing capabilities than your computer. The Given activated those terminals, so it must be trying to boot up the reactor. We will be safe in here while it destroys those in its way, and, if your changes were effective, when its Spiritor initializes the reactor, the system will reset, and it will be held in a safety zone, while we have time to escape through that door.>”

Silence.

“<I really hope that works,>” Baskin says quietly.

It’s only a few minutes later that Hive start pouring out of the walls, and Mithrax is increasingly thankful for the safety field separating them. Through the barrier dividing the larger room, he sees a squad of eliksni tumble into the room, fighting tooth and claw against a swarm of Thralls. With all the sound blocked by the barriers, if he looks away, he could pretend nothing is happening. He watches instead.

There’s only one dreg left by the time he sees two Acolytes abruptly reduced to ash, the hooded Given stepping into sight a few moments later.

“<It _looks_ like the same one, >” Baskin comments uncertainly.

Mithrax clicks. It’s about the same height. It’s wearing the same helmet. The mask makes its face look like a maw of Void.

He’s assuming it’s wearing a helmet, at least.

The lone dreg freezes when they catch sight of it, then raises their knife and charges it, the little fool. It strikes them once, almost casually, and they collapse instantly.

“<Ouch.>” Velixas deadpans. Mithrax clucks at him.

The Hive swarm at the barrier. A bright speck appears at the Given’s shoulder - its Spiritor. It sweeps a beam of Light over a console, and the barrier drops. The band of Thralls barely moves a step before space indents around a vortex of Void, tearing them to ash.

More Hive come. The Given holds what looks like a Submachine Gun, and the muzzle flashes in the dark. The Spiritor remains corporeal, light blazing from its eye and illuminating the room in a dizzying series of glimpses as the Given darts around. Just brief tableaus of Hive thrashing, clawing, silently dying in droves. He’s never been so close to a rampaging Given before. He’s getting a headache.

The beam of light stabilizes and abruptly swings to point directly at them. Mithrax squints, barely managing to resist flinging a hand up to cover his eyes. The Given stands just on the other side of the barrier, thrown into sharp relief by the Light at its shoulder. This close, he can see the Void in its helmet roiling like tainted Ether, holding his eyes on it like a ship in a gravity well. They stare at each other, unmoving. Behind him, his partners shift with anxiety.

It feels like an eternity before it turns away, heading for the bootup console. Mithrax breathes.

“<Keep still,>” he rumbles quietly. Baskin and Velixas shift just slightly.

The Given stands looking at the console, Light hovering over its hand as if it’s about to activate it - but it’s paused.

Its head turns slightly, and he gets the uncomfortable sense that it’s staring at him again.

His hands clench on his gun in sudden creeping anxiety. He didn’t adequately consider what might happen if the Given guessed what he’d done - he’d bet that the Spiritor would simply be able to produce the adequate clearance codes. But Spiritors can crack even Vex coding given enough time - would it notice Velixas’s hasty modifications? Would it change them back?

How would they get out if -

The Given turns its head back and makes a motion with its upper arm. The console lights up. He holds his breath.

The room starts to illuminate, brighter and brighter, a muffled voice saying something distorted and incomprehensible -

When his vision clears, the barrier around them is gone, the large doors are open, and the platform the Given is on is walled in.

Velixas inhales sharply as if to shout, but Baskin hisses “<Go!>”

Giddy incredulity wells in the back of his throat as he moves towards their new exit. It _worked_.

Mithrax slows as he crosses in front of the Given, standing motionless behind the barrier. It looks back at him, gun held at its hip.

He curtseys slightly, on an unexplainable whim.

He could have been imagining it, but he thinks it bowed its head just slightly in return.

The exit doors close on the image of it watching them before he can think on it further. He lets himself breathe for the first time in an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Mithrax and friends arrive at the bootup console, only to find they can't obtain access. They use the security checkpoint to seal themselves safely away from the incoming Hive and Guardian. It works, but Mithrax isn't certain if the Guardian was tricked, or simply went along with it.
> 
> * * *
> 
> The most heartfelt thanks, as always, to [whittler_of_words](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words), for being the Most Wonderful Beta! This story wouldn't be posted otherwise.


	4. Ghost Fragment: The Rig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Hive, onscreen death, heights

The Hive object strongly to their presence. “Strongly” being swarms of Thralls. And Acolytes. And a few Knights.

Mithrax doesn’t understand how in the hell that many of them manage to pop out of the walls like that when he’s very sure there was only a closet-sized space behind it, but the Hive being able to teleport would really be in line with the rest of their egregious, reality-defying nonsense.

They were only scouting for Given activity. They’re on the surface level of the Rig, thoroughly _outside_ the Arcology. Why does everything on this moon have to be such a _production_?

This exasperation is probably just him. The other two captains seem indifferent and anticipatory, respectively, at the prospect of a real fight.

Mithrax sweeps his eyes over the field, a platform on the edge of the Rig bordered on one side by giant ventilation pipes, and on the other by the woven wire guarding against a fall into the ocean. Their three squads combined are a match for his split-second assessment of the Hive forces, but only just, and the Hive caught them by surprise.

“<Baskin, Karsiks, get to high ground.>” As they run in opposite directions and start scrambling up the Human architecture, he continues, “<You all ->” meaning the ten dregs behind him, firing their pistols at the swarming Thralls from behind cover, “<\- spread out and draw the Hive out into the open. Confuse their fire. Keep moving.>”

They chirp in acknowledgment and sprint out on his mark. Thakis, Erandel, and Skrikis he knows already - he hasn’t learned the names of the others yet. He glances over to the other captains as he engages several Acolytes, blasting them with his launcher; their crews are scrimmaging with the Hive. One dreg’s head bursts open with a rush of ether.

Stupid.

Some of his dregs stayed clumped together, and when a horde of Thralls start charging them, they all hold their ground in a brief panic, rapid-firing their pistols.

“<SCATTER!>” he roars, knocking an Acolyte over.

They react to his voice instantly, sprinting in three different directions. The majority of the Thralls split, a few walking in circles looking confused. Baskin and Karsiks catch them in their crossfire.

He smashes like a charging Given into the Thralls chasing Skrikis.

“<Keep moving,>” he reminds him. Skrikis blinks, wiping the Hive ash out of his eyes.

“<Yessir.>”

He looks back. The Hive’s numbers don’t look appreciably diminished, meaning they’re getting reinforcements. Those Knights are still up. One caves Captain Frelsik’s head in with a sickly crunching noise.

Before it can remove its cleaver from her skull, Mithrax darts in and unloads his launcher directly at its face. It falls, crumbling. He whirls around to fire at the other Knight, but his shot skitters off of the black shield it conjures.

He barely has time to holster his launcher and draw his swords before it’s on him, swinging wildly. He blinks to the side, and slashes at its waist - the strike connects, but the gash it makes in the chitin only seems to enrage the Knight. He goes for the back of its knees, instead.

Mithrax spares a glance around while it’s stumbling - Thralls are swarming Captain Dransil, only three of his crew in sight. He thinks he sees one of the late Captain Frelsik’s vandals on a perch perpendicular to Baskin and Karsiks. His gaze darts around - three dregs, six dregs, nine -

The tenth, one he can’t name yet, is apparently distracted by the crowd of Thralls on their heels, explaining why they’re barreling towards the Knight.

They lean forward as if to run, apparently forgetting they don’t have enough of their lower arms to counterbalance a full sprint, and go tumbling, skidding directly into the Knight’s ankles.

There’s a brief moment where all of them are frozen - the Thralls skidding to a halt and cowering, Mithrax crouched, the Knight staring down at the dreg, and the dreg staring wide-eyed back up.

“<Move!>” Mithrax barks and the dreg rolls out of the way in time to avoid getting stomped on -

But not far enough away to avoid being thrown in the air towards the edge of the platform by the inexplicable shockwave that’s produced by the Knight’s foot.

Mithrax _lunges_ , dropping one sword and grabbing the dreg’s ankle just as they hit the edge of the chain-link and slip off.

Mithrax thinks he hears the dreg choke on a scream, but he’s somewhat distracted by the fact that he’s awkwardly stretched out on the ground with only one upper arm holding a sword due to the other one hanging off the platform, while the Knight turns and approaches, three eyes alight.

In one motion, he pushes off his lower arm and flings the dreg in a high arc over the Knight’s head. The Knight turns to follow the strident “AAAAAAAAAAA” sound, giving Mithrax the opportunity to snatch up his fallen sword and bury them both in its abdomen as the dreg hits the ground.

He yanks them out and discovers that no more Hive reinforcements are forthcoming from the walls, leaving nothing but ash and dozens of eliksni corpses.

“<Focus the leaders,>” he mutters to himself, contemplatively shaking the ash off his swords. Turning his comms on, he says “<Sound off.>”

Two of the dregs whose names he didn’t know are unaccounted for. One of them had been the first one to sound the alert for the Hive, he remembers. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, then looks around the platform - yes, two of those dreg corpses are his.

He doesn’t want to think about what might have happened to them in the handful of seconds he wasn’t paying attention.

“<Aye, Captain Mithrax!>” He turns towards the voice, seeing Captain Dransil strolling towards him with what little remains of his crew. He looks a little ruffled, a little dusty, a few thin trails of ether leaking from his person, but generally, frustratingly jovial.

Mithrax waits until he gets closer, before commenting dryly, “<That went well.>”

Dransil casually cuffs a cringing dreg around the head before hooking his lower hands in his belt and grinning. “<Can’t win them all.>” He tilts his head. “<Handy how you distracted the Knight. What was with the dreg, though?>”

Dransil is asking why he nearly dove off the rig to save a dreg. Mithrax counts to twelve in his head before shrugging and making his eyes form a grin as if they are sharing a joke. “<Waste of ether.>”

Dransil chirrs a brief laugh. “<Ha! Funny, that’s exactly why I was asking.>” He waves a faintly dismissive gesture, ostensibly at the various eliksni corpses, and Mithrax resists the urge to bristle visibly. “<You can have the honor of reporting this one, I’ve got to transmat these to our servitors.>”

Mithrax bows slightly, sardonically, and Dransil laughs and waves him off.

His crew falls into loose formation around him…with the addition of Frelsik’s remaining vandal, who is clearly trying to act nonchalantly. He’ll deal with that later.

Instead, Mithrax addresses the dreg he’d flung like a grenade. “<You. Are you injured?>”

He clearly caught them by surprise, because they answer honestly. “<I think I fractured my left shoulder plate and upper arm.>” Their eyes go pale. “<It’s fine though, sir!>”

It is not, which he can tell because their Winter accent got much stronger in panic, and they’re unable to hide that they’re limping. “<Report to the splicers. After they’re finished with you, tell them to send someone who can explain to me how the Hive get around so damn quickly.>”

They open and shut their jaws a few times, blinking. When he clicks at them, they blurt “<Yes. Uh, yessir.>”

“<Name?>”

“<Devik, sir.>”

Mithrax grunts and looks away, squinting at the Vanguard jumpship flying a loose sentry pattern, far enough away to be no more than the size of his claw.

Two lost, he thinks. Only one possibly gained, but it could have been worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Hive ambush Captain Mithrax and two other Captains on the Rig. The Hive are driven off, but with substantial casualties. The other surviving Captain, Dransil, asks Mithrax why he went to the effort of saving a Dreg. Mithrax deflects.


	5. Chances and Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Hive, institutional devaluation of life

Mithrax has gotten too used to working only with his crew. He doesn’t know these people, doesn’t know the eliksni he’s spent the last half hour trying to give orders to in the most abbreviated fashion he can manage without feeling like he’s _definitely_ condemning them to death, instead of just...probably.

It took too long to explain how they were planning to detour the Given, too long to explain how they needed to surprise it with exploder shanks, too long to explain that yes, they needed web mines in the second tunnel with the tripwire mines but _not_ the first.

Explaining this part, however, has been by far the hardest. Mithrax shouldn’t even be trying, so he keeps backing off. But he can’t help trying again.

“<Group-firing is the only way to overwhelm even a single Given with these numbers,>” Mithrax reiterates, voice even. “<And if, as I suspect, the Given coming for the generator now is the same one that has been chasing it thus far, it will not be easy to spot from a distance. It may even bypass you with stealth. Therefore, your priority is to slow it, and warn the teams ahead of you of its status.>”

“<But if we _kill_ it - >” the vandal he’s been coaxing for three minutes says earnestly.

“<How likely is it,>” Mithrax interrupts coldly, “<that you will be able to kill a Given with - oh, a squad of dregs, a handful of shanks, and yourself? Hm?>”

The vandal - he hadn’t learned their name, he shouldn’t - squirms under his level gaze, and remains silent.

Mithrax gestures terse approval. “<Stay visually hidden as much as possible,>” he instructs. “<Given hunt by sight, not motion alone. Additionally, try to stay back until it has made its way to the hallway, to provide aid to the team assisting the barricade servitor.>”

“<Sir,>” they mutter meekly. Something twinges in his chest, and he crushes it mercilessly. It doesn’t matter right now that that way of acting still comes very easily.

Mithrax watches as a handful of the dregs join the heavy shank in standing across from the wall breach into the Solarium, entirely out in the open. Bah.

Sighing, he turns back to the hallway with the marauders he’s told to hide on the ceilings. He turns away for twelve seconds. _Twelve seconds_.

Right as he’s about to return to the Arboretum proper, he glances back into the Solarium. The Given with the maw-shaped helmet stands on the plaza, a thin slash of gray and black and Void against the background of riotous green.

Mithrax stands there, swords held carefully loose, for a small eternity, the Given’s gaze holding him frozen.

It makes as if to move, and his swords come up reflexively as he darts towards the door. From the corner of his eye, he sees it vanish mid-step, and he pings a command to the servitor to block the doorway. The barrier springs up mere moments after he dashes through it.

Damn.

* * *

“<Do you think he got caught?>” someone whispers and Velixas almost snaps at them before Baskin pings them all for silence, again.

Their small team had snuck into the Arcology about a half hour ago. They all know why, even though the Captain conspicuously didn’t say, or even explicitly order them.  That would have implied to the Baron that the Captain wasn’t, in fact, expecting the other squads to reach the reactor.  
  
But they’re all itching from brushing Hive barnacles while crawling through Hive tunnels, they’re all feeling cramped from holding still for so long, they’re all feeling faintly ill in general, and they picked up on chatter about twelve minutes ago indicating that the Given had breached the Solarium. The captain would have been in there by then, they’re pretty sure.

Velixas is moments from caving and comming the captain when Dakis clicks in alarm, arm stubs wiggling. Easing himself out of the alcove, elbowing Khevik out of the way, Velixas spots the Captain barreling down the wide hallway across from the entrance to the reactor room at full speed, swords out. They all scramble upright as Captain Mithrax skids to a halt just outside the hallway, a barrier springing up behind him to block the doorway.  
  
Peering through the distortion, Velixas can see an unfamiliar barricade servitor blasting Thralls.  
  
“<Sir?>” he hears Baskin ask, over the sound of the Captain breathing. Velixas turns around to find the other three wide-eyed and clustered as close as they can without crowding.

The Captain straightens up, sheathing his swords. “<The Hunter Given that has previously chased us is on our trail again. It appeared in the Solarium and caught up to me in the Hive atrium, but the barriers seem to be slowing it. We should have a dozen minutes to crack the door.>”  
  
The Hive atrium is at the other end of the hallway. Velixas feels the bristles rise on the back of his neck. Too close.  
  
Captain Mithrax’s gaze sweeps over the tiny hallway. Their heavy shank hums. Velixas watches more Hive leap at the barricade servitor through the barrier. He looks behind him. Four eliksni, not counting the Captain. No contest. And this hallway is out of transmat range, jammed by the Hive.

Velixas looks at the Captain, who’s watching him, silent and patient.

“<At your discretion,>” Captain Mithrax says quietly. _I have faith in you_ , Velixas understands.

Velixas breathes deep - _two, four, six_ \- and hooks his computer into the system.

It’s hard to concentrate when he can hear muffled Hive shrieking through the walls, the rumble of an angry servitor. Hard to concentrate when Baskin is listening to the comms, hearing startlement and sudden silence from the other squads. It’s even harder to concentrate when the entire hallway starts shaking, the faint sound of a massive servitor’s blast.

“<Selkis, the Obstructor,>” Captain Mithrax explains, voice soft.

“<One room away,>” Dakis mutters, before wincing at a look from the Captain. Velixas pulls his mandibles close to his face and squints harder at the readouts. He’s so close, he’s so _close_ -

There’s an awful mechanical wail, and a chunk of servitor flies through the dissipating barrier. The Hive screech hideously - and the door to the reactor room slides open ponderously.

The Captain blinks in front of them, slashing his swords in wide arcs to drive the Hive back. Velixas haphazardly engrams his equipment before hefting his shock rifle - there’s no damn high ground here, barely any cover. The Hive rush in, and Dakis throws a grenade into the bottleneck. The shockwave sparks off of the Captain’s shield, disintegrating the Hive.

The horde keeps coming, and it’s all they can do to hold roughly together.

“<Sir!>” Velixas shouts, firing near continuously, projectiles unerringly tracking to Acolyte heads.

“<Through the hallway!>” The Captain roars. “<Baskin and Velixas, catch them in crossfire, then get into transmat range!>”

The Captain forges forward, blades slashing, and Velixas darts through the gap, Baskin on his heels. A whole horde of Thralls follows and Velixas skids to a halt, back to a pillar, to clear them out. He can hear the snap of Baskin’s wire rifle above him.

A Knight shoulders its way through a gap in the wall, and the ether in his veins runs cold as he spots the Captain baiting it away from the dregs. Velixas catches sight of the Knight slamming a giant cleaver into the Captain's pauldron before he vanishes up the stairs, into the reactor room.

“< _Sir!_ >” Baskin cries out, the rhythm of her rifle faltering.

“<Baskin!>” Velixas roars. “<Clear the Hive!>”

A choked sound from above him, before Hive start sprouting wire holes where their heads used to be. It takes Velixas a moment to realize that the sound of Selkis’s concussive blasts has stopped. Spawn of a -

Velixas grits his teeth and keeps firing, keeps striking with his lower hands at Thralls that get too close, and it’s almost a surprise when the Hive stop coming.

“<To me!>” he hears Baskin call, and Khevik and Dakis come stumbling into the hallway, visibly panting and covered in Hive ash the same way Velixas knows he is. Velixas can see the heavy shank in pieces behind them.

Khevik’s eyes are wide. “<What?>” snaps Velixas, cranky from tension.

“<I ->” he croaks, shivering, “<Something brushed by me at the doorway. Looked - looked behind, something with a Given cloak.>”

“<No,>” falls out of his mouth, as Dakis and Baskin look at Khevik in horror. The air smells of methane, and dead Hive, and bled ether, and ozone, and now of stark dread.

“<Come,>” Baskin says with an attempt at briskness, barely breaking through the shroud of fear. “<To transmat range.>”

She turns and strides away up the hallway, and the three of them fall in behind her, numbness creeping in. Baskin abruptly clicks her comms on. “<Captain Mithrax, this is Vandal Baskin of the Forsaken crew. Please respond.>”

Velixas clutches his gun, curls his lower hands into fists. He can’t even dredge up the effort to mock her formality.

“<Captain Mithrax, this is Vandal Baskin. What is your status? Please respond.>”

It’s silent as death now. Velixas sees Dakis’s hands opening and closing fruitlessly out of the corner of his eyes, sees her staring at nothing. Sees Khevik looking like he’s about to cry.

The comm hisses. Baskin sucks in an audible breath and tries again. “<Captain Mithrax, this is Vandal Baskin. Please respond.>”

Silence.

“<Captain, this is Baskin. Please respond.>”

Nothing.

“<Sir, please respond.>”

Nothing.

Then -

“<Vandal Baskin, this is Captain Mithrax, the Forsaken. I ->”

Khevik bursts into tears. Baskin exhales in relief. Velixas nearly snaps the barrel of his rifle off.

“<I - hm.>” It’s hard to hear over comms, but Velixas thinks he hears warmth in the Captain’s voice. “<What is your status?>”

Baskin visibly composes herself, then answers with poised coolness. “<Minor injuries. We have dealt with the Hive, and we are within transmat range.>” She pauses. “<That - we may have seen a Given...slip by us…>”

She trails off, and there’s a moment of quiet. Then, the Captain says heavily, grimly, “<I failed to obtain the objective. The Given retrieved it first.>”

This silence is different from the ones before, and the air stinks of disappointment. Again they’re thwarted, a chance at stability ripped from them.

“<...Orders?>” Baskin asks, tentatively.

“<I transmatted back to our beacon. Arcology side entrance. Regroup there. Be careful.>”

“<Sir,>” Velixas responds. Baskin’s comms cut out.

“<You two are stiff as corpses,>” Velixas mutters.

Baskin doesn’t bother replying, and they all stand in silence for a moment.

“<Oh well,>” Dakis says quietly.

* * *

When they arrive in ragged formation, having slipped by the now quiescent Hive, they see the Captain crouched against a low crate, the glow of his eyes dim, though they brighten minutely when he catches sight of them.

“<...We all made it out alive?>” Khevik offers tentatively.

“<Except for our shank,>” Velixas mutters.

The Captain huffs a laugh and starts to stand, but wobbles. Velixas and Baskin rush to his sides, but the Captain hisses when Velixas steadies him with an arm on the side of his chest. From this close, the Captain reeks of bled ether.

“<Sir!>” They all cluster around him anxiously. Baskin continues, “<What ->”

The Captain rumbles deep in his chest. “<A Hive Knight, and then a Given Hunter.>”

A moment of silence for the close call. Then, “<Can you walk?>” Baskin asks briskly.

“<Yes.>” And they all believe him. The question is more how much it will hurt him, but he’d be stubborn about taking painkillers even if they had plenty left.

The Captain signals Khevik to pull up the transmat beacon, and they begin the careful trip back to their base.

* * *

Mithrax has blown it. He really has. If he weren’t so singularly focused on staying alive, he might be having to hold back tears of frustration.

He is _so close_ , the generator is _in sight_ , but there’s a damn Hive Knight in his way, and he’s a good swordsman, but he was too distracted by drawing it away from his crew to avoid a crushing blow to the shoulder, and every movement burns like cold fire. He can smell his own ether in the air.

You don’t even _need_ the generator, he wants to scream at it. We _need_ this, my crew will _starve_ without it. But the giant blade comes down an inch from his leg, and he darts aside under its guard, slashing furiously.

It’s in between him and the reactor, if he can just get past it long enough to transmat the generator out - he’s dizzy from ether loss, he’s having to fight back the fog of panic and pain from every thought, he simply can’t give up now, so he ducks under to put himself closer to the reactor, and it swings at him again -

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

The Knight falls. Mithrax reflexively readies his blades, unable to process the sound right away.

It’s that Given, two dozen paces away, holding a rifle at the ready. His remaining blood runs cold. From bad to worse.

Or. Wait.

Given can move very fast when they wish to. Up until six seconds ago, it was _his_ back facing the door. The Given had to have come in before that.

It’s not shooting him, just...staring. Gun at the ready, but not firing. There’s no way he can beat it.

Some part of his brain is wilting in despair, but on the outside, he just gestures broadly. “<You have taken it; it is yours. It’s nothing to lose to a foe like you, of course,>” Mithrax salutes sarcastically, ether pricking the back of his eyes.

It doesn’t move. Mithrax flees like a coward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Captain Mithrax directs squads of lower-ranked eliksni to engage in delaying tactics for the Guardians that are chasing down the reactor, but barely escapes in time. By the time Vandal Velixas manages to get the door to the reactor room open, the Hive have also tracked them down, and Mithrax is distracted from grabbing the reactor by a Hive Knight. The Guardian decides to kill Golthor the Subtle, not him, and he decides to cut his losses. Meanwhile, his crew was worried after he vanished into the reactor room, and is disappointed that they lost the reactor, but more pleased that he didn't die.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Fun fact: whatever voice line Mithrax says at the end there, it sounds a _suspicious_ amount like both one of Skolas's voice lines (namely, "Kler e zer, dres ha bas er"), and the second half ("dres han bas er") sounds a lot like what the Devil Captain says in the very first cutscene in D1. While it's likely they reused the same audio line(s), it's obviously a _very_ different context, so I'm just assuming that sentence meaning in Eliksni is highly contextual. WHATEVER.
> 
> Many MANY thanks to [MonkeysInPants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkeysInPants/pseuds/MonkeysInPants) and [Zappercat](http://zapperthecat.tumblr.com/) for being absolutely GLORIOUS betas! Thank you guys!
> 
> Comments and reviews are treasured and adored, every one!


	6. Ghost Fragment: Rat King 1

Mithrax sits back at his workstation, sets down his datapad and breathes. Just for a moment.

There was a cooperative troop action yesterday to seize a large portion of the uninfected upper rigs from Hive control. Successful, as it happens, which is very good.

Less good is that his crew is now down five dregs and a vandal.

He doesn’t like losing crew. Because then he has to train up their replacements, of course. The lost crew had been relatively new, but still. Obviously, that is why.

Anyway. Mithrax looks through the remaining roster. He looks through his official crew notes, and through his unlabeled crew notes, and through the reports on all the latest successful and unsuccessful missions.

So much tech on this rig that they have no idea how to crack, even with the gracious assistance of servitors. Hm.

* * *

 “<Captain Mithrax!>” Captain Kraksin’s face brightens when he sees Mithrax.

Mithrax puts on a smile in response as he returns the bow Kraksin gives him. “<I hope I am not interrupting.>”

“<No, no, I have time for you, yes?>” Kraksin pulls up several holoscreens. “<For crew requests, right?>” Mithrax makes a noise of assent. “<I tell you, this is so much more complicated with all of this extra data in the transfer requests,>” Kraksin complains as he pulls up the list of people listed for transfers. “<Of course we do not want assumptions, with strangers, but it is a headache to sort correctly.>”

Mithrax makes a vague understanding noise, and Kraksin nods companionably. “<What are you looking for?>”

“<I am short five dregs and one vandal,>” Mithrax says neutrally.

“<That is not too bad,>” Kraksin says, sounding optimistic.

“<Not at all,>” Mithrax agrees. “<I hope I am not bothering you with such a minor consideration; only that you have been so helpful with the crew manifests before, so I of course thought to come to you.>”

Kraksin throws a grin his way, looking flattered. “<Well,>” he demurs, seeming to remember a little of Kings’ deflection, “<I will see what I can do.>”

A list of dregs circles on the screen. A few have a little Exile-green marker next to their icons. Mithrax selects both, not reacting to Kraksin’s skeptical noise. Might as well.

He scrolls to the oldest requests and notices one marked as a former vandal. That one would likely have a vandal’s training, still. He selects that one as well.

“<Really?>” Kraksin asks dubiously. 

Mithrax glances at him with a look - part coy, part amused. Kraksin laughs and subsides.

Two more dregs formerly of Kings. Those round out the roster.

“<Interesting!>” Kraksin chuckles, chin resting on his hand as he watches Mithrax browse. He sits up to swipe Mithrax to the next list.

Mithrax hums, examining the list of vandals to be reassigned. It’s shorter than that of the dregs, but not by as much as he would have thought. “<If possible…>” Mithrax starts, as if hesitantly. 

“<Yes?>” Kraksin asks, looking interested.

Mithrax continues, “<...Well, I’d like to get one that’s familiar with Human digital interfaces.>” Mithrax blinks slowly at Kraksin. “<Awoken is similar enough, I would think.>”

Kraksin leans back, makes a thoughtful noise as a conflicted expression spreads over his face. “<Well. I can think of...from the front of my mind, one, perhaps, but…>”

He trails off, and after a moment of polite silence, Mithrax carefully prompts, “<But?>”

Rearranging his banners more properly, Kraksin leans close to scroll around the screen. Mithrax doesn’t move.

“<It’s this one.>” A name highlights on the screen.

Mithrax expands the summary. _Velixas, no epithet, no group affiliation. House of Wolves. Specialties in information cracking, gathering._ “ <I...can’t say I am seeing a problem here,>” Mithrax says cautiously.

“<He’s _rabid_ ,>” Kraksin says meaningfully.

“<Ah.>”

“<I mean, Pivok - you know Pivok? - she said he can pull off some improbable nonsense when time runs short and he’s sufficiently motivated, but I don’t know if that’s worth it.>” 

Mithrax clicks. The problem here is what is going unsaid with this vandal. “<I’ll take him,>” Mithrax says, tone measured, “<But Pivok might expect a call later.>” This is a gamble if Vandal Velixas’s demeanor is what Kraksin implies it is. But he doesn’t particularly want to inform the chronically garrulous Kraksin of what, exactly, the gamble _is_. So. He will pretend this is a favor.

Burbling a laugh, Kraksin takes the datapad back as Mithrax hands it away. “<I’ll tell her! Or,>” and his shoulders ripple teasingly, “<You could go tell her _yourself_ and make her think she owes you a _bigger_ favor, eh? Bat your eyes a bit? >” 

Mithrax huffs, as if shy, and Kraksin laughs again. “<You know! Just give her a look, give her some hope, perhaps get a little gift later.>” 

He resists the urge to close his eyes. “<Oh, I shouldn’t.>”

“<What, too much demand above?>” At Mithrax’s carefully gauged unimpressed look, Kraksin chirrs companionably. “<Ah, I am only complimenting you, you know?>”

“<Of course.>”

* * *

The new crewmembers arrive a day after the requests are approved. It isn’t a good idea, but Mithrax has learned their names already.

Dregs Vaskik, Brakisk, Dakis, Drolkis, and Kemik. Roughly standard Dusk gear. Roughly standard condition, for dregs. The singular Devils and two Kings dregs have their gazes lowered as he looks them over. The two Exile dregs - Dakis and Kemik - stare him directly in the eyes. 

Vandal Velixas stands a handswidth in front of them on the side, head ducked but definitely watching him from beneath his own brows. The vandal is holding himself a little more stiffly than anxiety would warrant.

“<Vandal Karsiks will see you to your stations,>” Mithrax says, after a long period of silent evaluation. “<Inform a vandal and report to me once you are settled.>” With that, he turns and sweeps away.

Even the Exile dregs had shrunk back a little under his appraisal. At least he hasn’t allowed himself to lose that gravitas. Velixas, on the other hand…

The former Wolf had been still, but Mithrax couldn’t quite classify it as acknowledgment, or...something else.

Hm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Captain Mithrax needs to replace a few killed crewmembers, and goes to another former Kings captain to make sure he gets what he's looking for. Dregs Vaskik and Brakisk (formerly of Kings), Drolkis (formerly of Devils, and formerly a vandal), and Dakis and Kemik (formerly of Exile) join Mithrax's crew, as well as Vandal Velixas (formerly of Wolves).
> 
> * * *
> 
> IT'S ALIIIIIVE! I got hit with the double-whammy of coursework and weird lore ( _thanks, Forsaken_ /s), but I _think_ I've gotten all the contradictory elements ironed out into something I can be proud to put in a fic! Of course, now I gotta actually write it all, and update what I've already written...;_;
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me. Comments are always, always adored!

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wondered: wouldn't it be frightening for a mortal to be involved with a Guardian - an immortal, dangerous, and unpredictable undead warrior of the Light? The humans of the City have grown up idolizing Guardians - others have not.  
>   
> I've also wondered exactly what the hell is up with the eliksni, so this is my attempt to make sense of All That Lore, while giving them a happy ending to my own tastes.  
>   
> Not an easy road, though! So: as I finalize and post more chapters, I will update the tags and warnings, but in general expect the literal content to be about as grisly as Destiny proper, simply modified by the fact that it's being narrated by very frightened, vulnerable people. I'll try to tag for content in the notes at the beginning of each chapter, with a summary at the bottom if for whatever reason a chapter gets too squicky, or is unclear for some reason.  
>   
> Mind that I'm trying to stick to canon lore (EDIT: with a preference for D1) unless otherwise noted...with the example of the eliksni characters, because we have practically no narration from them so I'm just doing what I want re: their psychological needs/predispositions. Particularly for Mithrax, because I'm frankly just using a canon name for an OC meant to ask, "what does it look like when a Fallen superior actually cares about their subordinates?"  
>   
> Enjoy!


End file.
